I’m afraid that these days you can’t expect much more in these parts than a quick update. And so, here you go:

Thursday night we signed the final papers on our new condo. It’s official! Our closing date is 8/31.

Friday morning, we received a phone call from our mortgage broker informing us that as of 5pm that day, the mortgage company she worked for would cease to exist. Our house was set to go on the market in 2 hours. We were packing up the car to head out to Sacred Groves for Meadowfabulous. Time stood still for a second. My father would later comment that it was pretty much the perfect storm of real estate anxiety.

At our agent’s suggestion, we bucked up and got the hell out of town. Leaving our house all pretty for the realtors and open house folks, we headed out to Sacred Groves anyway, mortgage/housing freakouts be-damned. And I’m glad we did. I had an anxiety riddled Friday night, waking up once an hour freaking out and having someone’s thoughts (were they mine? so negative! so awful!) running through my mind at helium-speeds.

3 years of marriage, 9.7 years of loveBy Saturday around noon, I’d calmed down a bit and the weekend unfolded into a luscious time, possibly our best anniversary campout yet. 48 hours of a mellow, low-key, sober-yet-psychedelic meadow filled with freaks. Oh and I finally got to see what Dre’s been doing in circus class for all those months as he did an aerial performance. The phrase “gayvman” was tossed around. There was a lot of soaking in a wood-fired tub made out of a horse trough. Many of us were made more fabulous by what became known as The Amy Leblanc Box. There was lots of extreme lounging and happy dogs and you’re probably just best off looking at the pictures.

Quote of the weekend: “Is it ok if I get the fuzzy blankets and put them in the cuddle dome?” Yes. Yes, that’s definitely ok.